


the blue flower

by LorelaiFalling (WingsofLark)



Series: the truth untold [1]
Category: The Sentinel, 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Dystopia, Alternate Universe - Sentinels & Guides, Alternate Universe - Sentinels and Guides Are Known, Angst, Childhood Friends, Drinking, Hostage Situations, Hurt/Comfort, Jealousy, Kim Taehyung | V-centric, Kinda, M/M, Masturbation, Minor Violence, Mutual Pining, Pack Bonding, Possessive Behavior, Post-Apocalypse, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Pre-OT3, Promises, Rebellion, Secrets, Sentinel/Guide, Sex Toys, Slow Burn, Soul Bond, Technobabble, Zoning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-11
Updated: 2018-06-30
Packaged: 2019-05-21 01:24:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,613
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14905838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WingsofLark/pseuds/LorelaiFalling
Summary: Suddenly, the doorbell rings. The shorter man is on him in an instant, one hand over his mouth and the other pinning his hands to his lower back. Somehow even faster, the second man’s hands come up.“Holy shit, is that a gun?”aka the sentinel/guide au that this fandom doesn't want or need





	1. what is your name?

**Author's Note:**

> I recently binge read a ton of Sentinel AU fics, and I noticed that the BTS fandom is severely lacking on this front. So I've taken it upon myself to solve this crisis in the only way I know how: self-indulgent OT3 angst. 
> 
> I have the entire work written, so I'll be updating weekly. This is un-betaed, so feel free to point out any mistakes I missed or throw me some constructive criticism.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> normally being half naked in a room with two hot guys sounds like a great time to Taehyung, but those nights usually involve fewer threats to his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning: chapter contains guns, kidnapping/hostage situations, ust, and jikook being thirsty af

_Progress Report: Senior Technician 3877004, Kim Taehyung. SG Matching Program back online. 45 bugs located and fixed. 5 vulnerabilities located and patched. SG Identification Software back online. 67 bugs located and fixed. 8 vulnerabilities located and patched. All detected malware removed, identification numbers retrieved. The National Center for Sentinel and Guide Education can resume all activities, effective immediately. All priority assignments have been completed, on standby for further instruction._

With the click of a mouse, the audio report is submitted. Taehyung closes his portable desktop, giving its buffed chrome surface an affectionate pat. It’s admittedly dated technology, with most of the technician network already upgraded to direct neural interfaces, but it’s served him well over the years. Besides, his supervisors can’t complain, not when he’s one of their best technicians, even coding manually. 

He knows he’ll have to make the switch eventually, but for now he likes the solid feeling of a keyboard under his fingers. It reminds him of his grandma, who helped him build his first computer and taught him the basics of coding. She was one of the founders of modern quantum computing, infamous for her sharp intellect and cutting words. But despite her formidable reputation, what he remembers most about her is her gentle hands. He vividly recalls the meticulously wrapped gifts she gave him each year for his birthday, filled inside and out with endless consideration and love. His computer and the small furry dog plush sitting on his bed are the only two left, the rest either lost or destroyed during the quarantine. 

His guidance counselor would tell him to stop thinking about things from before the Passing, to move on from what he’s lost and look towards the future. But right now, his future is looking like Chinese take-out and binge-watching reality TV shows alone in his penthouse, so he allows himself this small infraction. 

“Open the menu for Slow Panda,” he says, leaning back in his chair as his desk projects up a hologram of the restaurant’s menu. After a moment of thought, he dictates his order. It’s enough food that the restaurant would usually ask questions, but (sad as it is) he orders from there often enough that the workers are familiar with him and his eccentricities. As much of a code cruncher stereotype as it is, Taehyung has a bad habit of ignoring his body’s needs when he’s in the middle of a programming binge. His stomach is now violently protesting the excess of fiber bars he’s consumed and he smells suspiciously like the sludgy protein shake that’s been fermenting on his desk for the past three days, so he decides he should probably take a shower before he knocks out the nice delivery person with his potent stench. Season 4 of Match of Chairs can wait. 

As he drops his stained and sweaty clothes in the hamper in his bedroom, he wrinkles his nose at the stale, musty air and stops to open the windows. He spends a rare moment to appreciate the view of his eighth floor high-rise penthouse, looking over the ever-bustling streets and savoring deep lungfuls of the cool night breeze. When his eyes get watery and his ears start to go numb, he ducks back in and heads to the bathroom, starting up the shower. After brushing his teeth, Taehyung steps into the steamy shower, groaning in pleasure as the hot water scours the grime from his body. The pattering of water against the floor tiles drowns out the thoughts buzzing in his head, and Taehyung finally allows himself to relax. 

Once he’s scrubbed clean and smelling faintly of eucalyptus (courtesy of the government-appointed cleaning lady who brings him groceries every week), he wraps himself in a fluffy towel and steps into his dark, moonlit bedroom, allowing the steam to billow out behind him. He opens his mouth to turn the lights on—

—only to have his words muffled into a cool dry palm. He blinks in surprise as a second later his arms are trapped behind his back by an immovable grip. He freezes, unsure how to respond to this unexpected turn of events. 

“Don’t struggle, don’t call for help,” a soft voice warns from somewhere behind him. “We don’t want to, but we will gag and tie you if necessary.” 

Taehyung nods slowly, mind racing. The hand on his mouth lowers but his arms stay firmly held in place. 

“If you want money, I don’t really keep cash in the house,” he says, scanning the room in hopes of finding the second part of ‘we’. “All my money is online, and there’s not really an easy way for you to steal that, unless you take me hostage and force me to make all of your purchases.” He pauses. “Which you should not do. Because that is a bad idea and also I’m wearing a towel and you should probably let go of my arms before I show you the kind of money you’re definitely not looking for.” As if to prove the point, the edge of the towel starts slipping down his chest. 

The pause of consideration lasts way too long for Taehyung’s comfort, both in regards to the threat to his life and the towel guarding his modesty, which sags dangerously low. When his hands are finally freed, he scrambles to pull the towel back up, tucking it more securely under his arms. 

“Can—” He licks his lips nervously. “Can I turn the lights on? If you wanna take stuff it would probably help if you didn’t brain yourself on my dresser.” There’s another stretch of silence, some kind of non-verbal communication flying completely over his head. 

“Fine,” the voice from before barks, this time slightly in front of him. “Lights on, sixty percent.” Given that he spends most of his time in the dark, lit only by the screen of his computer or hologram, sixty percent light is plenty for him to get his bearings. Taehyung blinks as he registers the two men, dressed head to toe in black, standing in his bedroom. The one closer to him is a bit shorter than he is, but sturdy in a way that he can’t even hope to match, strength hidden cleverly in his soft face and graceful form. The other is around Taehyung’s height, maybe a little taller, and more apparently athletic than the first, his tight clothes doing nothing to hide his powerful physique. Standing by the bed, he’s a little too far for Taehyung to get a good look at his face, but even from a distance it’s obvious that he’s just as handsome as the other man. While normally he’d be thrilled to have even one attractive guy in his bedroom, somehow he gets the feeling that this night is not going to have a happy ending. 

Suddenly, the doorbell rings. The shorter man is on him in an instant, one hand over his mouth and the other pinning his hands to his lower back. Somehow even faster, the second man’s hands come up. 

“Holy shit, is that a gun?” is what Taehyung tries to say, but it dies against the bruising grip of his captor’s hands. He tries to convey as much of his fear, surprise, and confusion in with widening eyes and raised eyebrows, even wrinkling his nose for good measure. The doorbell rings again, making all of them to jump. 

“Who the hell is visiting you at three in the morning?” the voice behind him hisses. His hand moves just enough for Taehyung to answer. 

“Take-out delivery?” he says carefully, eyes locked on the dark metal of the handgun trained on him. “You can take it if you want? They usually ring three times before they just leave it at the door. Ever since the time I—” The hand is replaced. After the doorbell rings a third time, the man in front of him tilts his head ever so slightly, like a dog hearing something imperceptible to humans. 

“She’s leaving,” he says at last, lowering the gun. Taehyung’s hope follows her. When he’s released a second time, he stumbles away so he can keep both men in his sight. He feels a small, vindictive measure of satisfaction when he sees the shorter make a face and wipe the moisture on his palm off on his pant leg. 

“So what exactly do you want?” Taehyung says, voice low. 

The two share a glance, and he doesn’t know how everyone but him seems to be able to do that non-verbal talking thing. 

“We want you to come with us,” the taller says abruptly. 

“Woah, okay, slow down there,” Taehyung says, putting his hands up as if that will provide him any defense against the intruders who could easily snap him in half. “I was just kidding about the kidnapping thing. It totally wouldn’t work because I have a job and my supervisors would come banging on my door if I didn’t submit my work and then the government would get involved and it’d be all sorts of messy.” He takes a deep breath, but narrows his eyes suspiciously at the bewildered looks they give him. 

“That’s not what this is about, is it,” he says flatly. “EU or UPA? Either way, I don’t have what you want. My computer wipes its data every time I use it, and you’re not getting anything out of me. I’m not some Republic whistleblower who buckles under a little pressure.” He eyes them, mouth set in a grim line, but is even more surprised to see their continued confusion. 

“Taehyung,” the shorter man says carefully. “Don’t you recognize us?” 

“Why?” he replies. “Are you some sort of infamous criminal masterminds or something?” It takes him a moment to process. “Wait, how do you know my name?” 

“Taetae,” the other man says, and Taehyung feels a faint spark of recognition. “It’s us. Jimin and Jungkook.” His mind goes blank, empty space filling with waves of dark and unrelenting rage. Sensing the change, the two each take a cautious step back. 

“How do you know those names,” he growls. “Who the fuck are you and what did you do to them? If you’ve hurt them, I will fucking _kill_ you.” 

They both wear similar expressions, a confusing mixture of fear, admiration, and something that resembles happiness. 

“No, Tae,” the shorter man says, voice soft. “It really is us. We can prove it.” He looks over at his partner and Taehyung tenses up as they simultaneously reach into their pockets. Unexpectedly, they each pull out a closed fist, before ten fingers unfurl to reveal two little white blobs. 

_Not blobs,_ Taehyung corrects. _Good luck charms._ He recognizes every edge and curve, remembers exactly where his chubby ten year old fingers pushed into the soft clay. When he emerges from his memories, they’re standing much closer than they were before, the lumpy little figurines presented before him. Looking up to examine their expressions, he suddenly recognizes the soft curves of Jimin’s cheeks, the traces of boyish innocence in Jungkook’s wide eyes. He only gets to memorize their faces for another moment before everything suddenly goes blurry, and he realizes distantly that he’s started to cry. 

“Jiminie?” he asks, unable to keep his voice from wavering. “Jungkookie? Is it really you? Not another dream?” Two sets of hands hover uncertainly around him. 

“Yeah,” Jungkook says hoarsely. “It’s us.” 

“I missed you,” Taehyung hiccups, cheeks wet with tears. “I’m so— so glad you’re both okay, I was so worried that something happened because y-you never wrote to me or called me or texted me even though we _promised_ and I kept sending you stuff hoping you’d reply but you never did!” His voice starts to rise at the end, and Jimin and Jungkook look on in horrified wonder at his visible shift from sorrow to fury. 

“Why the _fuck_ didn’t you answer?” he says, angrily wiping tears from his eyes. “Did you find new friends at your stupid elitist school that were more interesting than weird little Kim Taehyung from Sector 3? You could’ve at least said something instead of leaving me here _rot_ , you jerks! You— You were my only friends and you had each other but I-I was here all alone and… and I missed you...” He trails off with a miserable sniffle, suddenly worn out by his burst of anger. 

The two men both look slightly shellshocked, but politely avert their eyes as Taehyung blows his nose into the corner of his towel. One of them throws him a bathrobe, which lands squarely on his head. He turns around to change, tossing the towel aside and slipping on the fluffy robe, before turning back and pinning them down with a steely glare. 

“Explain,” he snaps, “or get the fuck out of my house.” 

Both of them start speaking at the same time, before stopping abruptly and sharing a look. After a moment, Jungkook ducks his head and Jimin starts talking. 

“Tae,” he says warily, like he’s talking to a scared animal. “First of all, we’re so, so sorry. We never wanted you to feel lonely or abandoned, and if I had any say in it we would’ve replied to every single letter you sent, two times over.” 

Taehyung stares at him skeptically. 

“We weren’t sent to private school,” Jungkook blurts out. “We were taken into custody by the National Center for Sentinel and Guide Education, back when it was still the Sentinel Guide Research Institute. They cut us off from all outside contact and confiscated our cell phones. Taetae, please believe me. We missed you too.” His dark eyes are bright with tears. 

Taehyung’s heart softens. Even after ten years, it seems Jungkook hasn’t lost the doe eyes that he’s always been weak to. 

“W-Wait,” he stutters. “The Center? You Presented? When did— Which— Are you—” His eyes dart between the two of them, and he feels a bit like he’s trying to figure a particularly cryptic piece of code. 

“Okay,” Jimin says, somehow managing to relax and tense up at the same time. “Slow down, Tae. One at a time.” 

“Alright, uhm…” Taehyung worries at his lower lip. “When did you find out? Did you know the whole time?” 

“Kind of?” Jungkook tries, frowning thoughtfully. “I mean. We both knew things were different, but they told us not to say anything to anybody because it could get those people in trouble. We didn’t find out about the whole Sentinel Guide thing until we got there and they locked the doors behind us.” 

“Hold on,” Taehyung asks. “I thought they let the Presented out once they’re taught to control their powers. Why were you guys gone for so long?” 

Jimin exhales heavily. “Tae, think about it. How many Sentinels or Guides have you personally met?” 

Taehyung considers it for a moment, apprehension settling low in his gut. 

“Not counting you guys, two,” he says slowly, “which, statistically, doesn’t make sense.”

“Once you go in there, you don’t come out the same,” Jimin says bitterly. “They perform experiments under the guise of ‘helping’ you. They poke and prod and worm their way into your head until all you know how to do is obey them. And then they start combat training, so that they can use you. The Center, the government, and anyone who enables them… They’re all evil.” There’s a haunted look in his eyes and, without thinking, Taehyung reaches out to comfort him. 

A low growl rumbles through the silence. 

He freezes and looks over at the source of the sound. Jungkook slaps a hand over his mouth, eyes wide with shame and guilt as he realizes what he’s done. Taehyung’s hand falls back to his side, and Jimin shoots Jungkook a glare that could melt steel. 

“Jungkook,” he hisses. “You are _so_ not helping right now.” Jungkook whines like a kicked puppy, and if Taehyung hadn’t just stared straight into the mouth of the lion he would’ve tried to console him as well. Instead, he shoves his hands into the pockets of the robe and stares at the ground. 

“You two are bonded, aren’t you?” he says quietly. The silence is more than enough of an answer. 

“It’s okay, Jungkookie,” he exhales. “You can’t help your instincts. I’m guessing you’re a Sentinel?” He chances a look up, and catches Jungkook’s tiny nod. “And that makes Jimin a Guide.” Another nod. 

“I mean, that explains a lot,” Taehyung says, and tries to swallow around the lump in his throat. “You two were always close, and you knew each other way before I knew either of you. So it shouldn’t really come as a surprise that you two bonded.” He wrestles down the resentful jealousy that sits bitter on his tongue. Could he be any more selfish? The only two friends he’s ever made spent years being manipulated and tortured, and all he can think about is how he’s not included? Grandma would be ashamed. He gives himself a mental slap on the wrist.

“I’m happy for you two,” he says, and means it. “You’ve gone through things I can’t even imagine, and I’m just so glad you could be there for each other when I wasn’t. Both of you deserve so much more than the shit life has thrown at you.” The smile he gives them is genuine, if a little bit watery. Jimin and Jungkook look at each other, then at him with something that resembles pity, and Taehyung decides that he’s had enough. 

“So why are you guys here?” he asks, hoping they won’t press further. “And how did you escape? Aren’t the Center’s security systems super tight?” 

_You would know,_ he thinks, guilt suddenly curdling his blood. _You made sure they were perfect._

“There was a jailbreak around 4 years ago,” Jungkook explains briefly. “There was a hole in the security system that was exploited. About twenty of us escaped.” 

Taehyung has to hide his grimace. He doesn’t need Jungkook to tell him what happened, but he doesn’t know how to explain why without the pair jumping straight back out of the open window. As if on cue, Jimin starts to speak. 

“We came back for you, Tae,” he says, dark eyes seeking Taehyung’s. “Kookie and I didn’t forget about you.” His hand tightens imperceptibly around the little clay figure. “We came back to convince you to come with us, outside the city where it’s safe.” It’s hard not to outright buckle when the two of them give him those imploring looks. 

“Well,” Taehyung sighs. “I’ll be honest with you, I’m not entirely convinced.” He looks between them thoughtfully. “I do believe that you’re Jimin and Jungkook.” _My Jimin and Jungkook,_ his brain supplies unhelpfully. “And I believe that you’re Guide and Sentinel. But…” He hesitates. 

“All the stuff about the Center and the government’s involvement,” he says. “I… I’m still not too sure about all that. It’s not that I don’t believe you, but I need to confirm for myself, do my own research. Can you give me a week?” 

“You have two days, Tae,” Jimin says remorsefully. “We’re leaving before the city-wide system update finishes. I’m sorry, and I wish I could give you more time, but two days is all we have. We’ll be back here tomorrow.” He pauses, lips pressed together in a tight line. 

“And please Tae, don’t tell anyone,” he pleads. “The safety of our people depends on your ability to keep this secret.” He makes a tiny movement, like he’s about to reach for Taehyung’s hand, but he thinks better of it and grabs Jungkook’s hand instead. The two of them climb out from his window, and Taehyung watches in stunned silence as it slides shut behind them. 

“Okay,” he croaks out, for nobody to hear.


	2. a garden of loneliness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> taehyung is determined to find the truth, meanwhile jimin and jungkook practice some stress management techniques. everyone does a bit of thinking.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning: chapter contains drinking, implied sex, and descriptions of masturbation. the thirst continues.

_‘Wait!’ he calls out, shoes pounding on the pavement as he reaches out with short arms. ‘Minnie! Kookie!’ Two dark heads turn to look at him, partially obscured by the man escorting them into the car. His lungs burn when he finally reaches them, but he hurriedly fishes around in his pockets._

_‘Give me your hands,’ he says seriously, and both of them present their palms unquestioningly. His heart flutters with uncharacteristic nervousness as he places a small object in each boy’s hand._

_‘What is it?’ Jungkook asks, voice filled with awe._

_‘Obviously, yours is a bunny,’ Taehyung explains, puffing up his chest proudly. ‘And Minnie’s is a mochi! Daddy helped me make them!” Jimin eyes the two amorphous white blobs with skeptical fondness. 'Don’t lose them! They’ll keep you safe.'_

_‘We’ll keep them forever, Taetae,’ Jungkook says earnestly, eyes sparkling as his tiny fingers close around the gift._

_‘Forever,’ Jimin confirms with a nod, tucking his safely in the pocket of his shorts. Taehyung beams, pulling his two friends into a group hug._

_‘Don’t forget to call and write,’ he says, pulling back to look at their faces. ‘And come visit too! Pinky promise!’ The three giggle, chubby fingers linking for a brief moment before the man in the dark suit comes to pull them apart and herd his friends into the car._

_‘Bye!’ Taehyung calls, following the car as it pulls away. He runs until his knees are wobbly and waves until the car disappears into the distance. ‘Bye!’_

Taehyung’s eyes flutter open. He sits up, grimacing at the sound of crumpling paper as he rolls onto a pile of empty take-out boxes. For a brief moment he thanks the heavens that the housekeeper refuses to buy him alcohol, because after what happened last night he would’ve cleaned out the liquor cabinet, and the last thing he needs right now is a hangover. He scrubs his hands over his face, trying to wrap his mind about exactly had transpired just a few hours ago. 

First and most importantly, Jimin and Jungkook are alive and well. _Now tell me how that makes you feel,_ his guidance counselor’s voice supplies helpfully. He feels happy about that, happier than he’s felt in a long time, he decides. Sure, they broke into his house and scared him shitless and _pointed a gun at him_ , but he can’t seem to summon the seething rage that filled him yesterday. Besides, he reasons, it’s nice to have a break from the constant isolated monotony his life has become. Even if that break comes in the form of home invasions and emotional meltdowns.

Next, his friends are Sentinel and Guide, and escaped ones at that. He feels unsteady, like his whole world has been flipped on its head, and there’s a lingering sense of guilt that simmers low in his stomach. Knowing about Sentinels and Guides is one thing; after the Passing, the concept became common knowledge. Fiercely loyal Sentinels use their enhanced strength and superhuman senses to protect their tribes, with Guides there to ground them and draw them out of their minds when they become overwhelmed by their own senses. Each Sentinel-Guide pair shares a spiritual bond so profound that Neutrals like Taehyung can’t even hope to understand it, and discovering that Jimin and Jungkook are part of this mysterious world is slightly earth-shattering. He wonders how much of what he knows is real and how much is sensationalized media. Maybe he’ll ask them later. 

Or maybe he won’t. The guilt still weighs heavily on his mind, Jimin’s stormy whisper (‘They’re all _evil_ ’) bouncing around in his skull. He still remembers getting notified of a security breach at the Center; can recall, line for line, the code that he pored over for hours upon restless hours. He remembers the bright spark of pleasure that struck him as the pieces came together, the pride that burst in his chest when he reported his findings to the Technician Supervisor. He could’ve cared less about his shiny new title and the doubling of his paycheck; what was important was that he’d fixed the code’s fatal flaw, and he was so sure his grandmother in heaven would’ve been proud of him— 

The bitter taste of bile coats his tongue as nausea rises in his throat, and he barely makes it to the kitchen sink before he’s vomiting. Acid burns his throat and his eyes start to water, but he can’t feel sorry for himself, not when there’s a distinct possibility that he’s condemned thousands of innocent people to hell with his own two hands. Part of him doesn’t want to believe it, wants to believe that it’s all one big conspiracy and that he’s going to wake up from this nightmare and return to his normal mundane life. But he can’t unsee the demons lurking in Jimin’s dark eyes, can’t forget the harsh lines that seem all too familiar on Jungkook’s young face. 

_I needs to find out the truth,_ he decides, watching the water carry the remnants of his dinner down the drain. _Even if it kills me._

  
  


* * *

  
  


Jimin flops onto the dusty mattress with a groan, closing his eyes and willing away the headache pounding at his skull. After their little stopover a few hours ago, he’s been up to his eyeballs in anxiety, and the fact that he can literally feel Jungkook’s self-loathing from across the room only adds to his unease. He tries to push some positive emotions through their bond, but it’s a halfhearted effort at best and it fizzles out weakly, causing both of them to let out a miserable sigh. 

“Woah, the fuck kinda pity party did I just walk in on?” They look up at the same time to see Yoongi, standing in the doorway with a mildly disgusted expression. 

“We fucked up,” Jimin moans pitifully. One of Yoongi’s eyebrows goes up. 

“Is this about that kid?” he asks, sitting down on the edge of the mattress. “The one you two are convinced hung the stars in the sky and invented sliced bread?” Jungkook nods miserably, and melts further into the moth-eaten armchair he’s sprawled out on. “Whatever it is, it can’t be worse than that one time Namjoon tried to pick up that one girl in that one bar and ended up giving her a concussion.” 

“He almost got naked and then I pointed a gun at him,” Jungkook sniffles. Yoongi blinks. 

“Okay yeah, that’s pretty bad,” he admits. Two sets of fiery eyes lock onto him. 

“He had no right to be that hot,” Jimin insists. “I was not emotionally ready for that beautiful, smooth, _tan_ …” He trails off, distracted, and Yoongi narrows his eyes. 

“It wasn’t on purpose!” Jungkook protested. “He was wearing a towel and it slipped!” 

“I’d still lick it,” Jimin comments absentmindedly. “You think he’d let me sit on his dick?” 

“I bet it’s a nice dick,” Jungkook says dreamily. 

“Okay, I’ve heard enough,” Yoongi cuts in loudly, standing up. “You’re both disgusting. I’m going to leave this room right now and you two are going to…” He wrinkles his nose. “... destress. Or whatever. Nasty fuckers.” He slams the door behind him. 

Jimin and Jungkook share a look. 

“Wanna say weird shit while we bang to gross Yoongi out?” Jungkook suggests. Jimin grins impishly, rolling onto his back and spreading his legs. 

“Babe, you know me so well.”

“I HEARD THAT, YOU LITTLE SHITS!”

  
  


* * *

  
  


His computer closes with a small ‘snick’, the room going pitch black without the device’s screen to illuminate it. Taehyung scrubs his face with his hands, attempting to make sense of all the information swirling around in his head. 

“Have a bottle of tequila delivered,” he says, checking to make sure the digital delivery order is submitted. There was no way he’s going to do this sober. When the doorbell rings, he pushes away from his desk and goes to receive the bottle of alcohol, cracking open the top as soon as the door closes. He downs three shots in quick succession. The burn of the alcohol sliding down his throat quells the anxiety that sits heavy in his chest and he heads to his bedroom, thoroughly ready to curl up under his covers and contemplate the meaning of life. Diving under his thick comforter, he turns and looks at the stuffed dog sitting on the pillow next to him. 

“Yeontan,” Taehyung sighs. “I don’t know what to do. I’m scared. Everything I’ve ever known has been a lie. How I could’ve been so _blind_? I’ve… made a lot of mistakes, and I don’t know if I can ever fix the damage I’ve done.” He turns to lay on his back, staring up at the ceiling. 

“I wish Grandma was here,” he whispers. “She would know what to do. She would’ve set me straight before I even got myself into this mess.” He goes quiet, the buzz from the tequila scattering his thoughts. Unrestrained, his mind flits automatically to Jimin and Jungkook. 

“Why did they have to grow up hot?” he whines to himself, long limbs flailing uncoordinatedly in frustration. “They’re so beautiful and strong and I want them to pin me down and fuck me _stupid_ —” The image of them jumping out his bedroom window, hands held, flashes in his head. 

“But they’re bonded, you dumbass,” he slurs miserably. Everyone knew what bonding between a Sentinel and a Guide meant. It was the most intimate kind of connection between both the body and the mind, so precious and unique that calling it sex would almost be a crime. Taehyung can see the way they fit together, similar and different in all the right places, but he can only imagine the masterpiece they make when they truly _fit_ together, lips and sweat and skin—

_Jungkook’s tongue flicks sensitive skin, the familiar taste sending sparks of pleasure down his spine, and Jimin throws his head back as he moans, exposing the beautiful, kiss-marked curve of his neck. His fist grips Jungkook’s hair and tugs hard, forcing the man to look into his eyes. Jungkook’s eyes dilate as he takes in every inch of his Guide’s body, the hand in his hair acting as an anchor point for Jimin to reach across their bond and ground him. Swiping his tongue across his lower lip, he dives in for round two._

Taehyung gasps, hand warm and slippery with lube as he strokes himself. There’s a very rational part of his brain that tells him that this is a terrible idea, jerking off to the thought of his two soulmate friends whom he’d just seen for the first time in almost ten years. Unfortunately, that rational part of his brain is currently sitting under a sea of tequila and sex hormones, so nothing stops him from working slick fingers into himself and pretending they’re someone else’s. 

_Their hips work in unison, bodies pressed together so tightly that not even air can slip between them. They are one spirit in two bodies, filling each other’s gaps and soothing each other’s wounds, and the pleasure that flows between their physical connection isn’t nearly as intimate as the delicate way their minds weave together. They breathe the same air, think the same thoughts, and they come together with the same words on their lips._

“Oh, fu—uck,” he groans, working the dildo in and out of his body. The angle is awkward and his wrist is starting to hurt, but the tantalizing sparks of pleasure that shoot up his spine each time he manages to nudge his sweet spot persuade him into continuing. Heat builds in his lower body when he imagines strong hands pressing bruises into his hips, and he comes hard, sobbing incomprehensibly into his pillow as he spills into his own hand.


	3. looking at the broken mask

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the truth comes to light and trust is broken.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning: chapter contains a traumatic flashback, which contains elements of unethical experimentation, child abuse, and general lack of good personing.

Taehyung wakes to an insistent tapping noise coming from the window. When he looks over, squinting his eyes to see through the darkness of nightfall, his heart drops to the pit of his stomach when he sees two familiar figures balanced precariously on his windowsill. 

“Shit!” he swears, panicking when he notices the sparkly purple dildo sitting innocuously on top of his sheets. “I’m sorry, I’ll be right there!” Praying it’s too dark for his visitors to see, Taehyung fumbles it back into the drawer of his bedside table, then grabs the closest pair of sweatpants he can find and tugs them on. Deciding he can look for a shirt after he’s saved the two men from falling to their certain deaths, he lunges for the window and flips the lock open. When the window finally slides open, the two tumble in almost comically, a pile of limbs that Taehyung can barely make out in the darkness. 

“Jesus Christ, Tae,” he hears Jimin pant. “You’re an even heavier sleeper than Jungkookie. We were out there forever.” 

Taehyung winces, silently cursing the bottle of tequila sitting inanimately on his kitchen counter. 

“A little light, please,” he says, and the room slowly becomes visible up. With the added light, he quickly finds a t-shirt that looks fairly clean and pulls it on. When he finally manages to get his head through the head hole, he looks over and sees Jimin and Jungkook on their feet and staring at him like he’s grown a third head. 

“Uh, hi?” Taehyung tries. Somehow, this feels more awkward than when they had a gun pointed at him and his hands behind his back. He sees Jungkook’s nose twitch. 

“Oh man, yeah, sorry for the mess,” he apologizes, gesturing vaguely at the dirty laundry scattered around the room. “It’s probably not very Sentinel-friendly, with the smells and.. stuff. I didn’t think you guys were gonna come back so soon. Feel free to open some more windows or whatever.” His eyes are drawn to the hand Jimin places on Jungkook’s arm, the younger looking slightly dazed as he continues his quiet snuffles. Suddenly, two sets of dark eyes settle on him. 

“Were you drinking, Taetae?” Jungkook asks, pupils large in the low light. “You smell like tequila.” 

Taehyung licks his lips nervously, and both of their gazes drop to catch the motion. 

“Yeah,” he says, voice slightly hoarse. “I had some after I… after I confirmed what you guys told me.” The way their eyes widen hopefully makes him nauseous. 

“So you believe us?” Jimin whispers excitedly. “Oh, Tae. I always knew you’d be able to see the truth. Go and gather the stuff you need; Kookie and I can help you if you tell us what to grab. No electronics though, because the government can track those. Once you’re ready, we’ll head to…” He trails off, sensing Taehyung’s discomfort. “What’s wrong, Tae?” 

“Jiminie, Jungkookie,” Taehyung says hesitantly. “I… I don’t think I can go with you.” 

“Why not?” Jungkook demands, nostrils flaring in instinctive anger. Jimin squeezes his arm. 

“I don’t think you or your people want me there,” Taehyung says quietly, breaking eye contact. “There’s things about me that you don’t know. You really… shouldn’t be so quick to trust people.” 

“Taehyung,” Jimin says, soft voice touching the fear buried deep in the back of his mind. Was this the rumored Guide voice? “There’s nothing you could say that would make us leave you behind.” 

Taehyung barks out a humorless laugh, even as Jungkook nods in agreement. 

“If you won’t believe me, then I’ll tell you,” he says, lifting his head to make eye contact again. He lets all the warmth and affection he feels for the pair fall away from his gaze, gathering all of his guilt and steeling his heart. 

“Park Jimin, Jeon Jungkook, I am your enemy. I’m one of the people you’ve been fighting against this whole time.” The sharp taste of bile floods his mouth, but he pushes through determinedly, because they deserve to know the truth. “I created the unbreakable security system at the Center. I’m the one who maintains the programs that let them do their atrocious acts.” He forces himself to watch the horror dawn on their faces as they register his words. 

“I sentenced your people to death,” Taehyung says bitterly. “ _Senior Technician 3877004, Kim Taehyung._ ” He tells himself he’s prepared, but it still stings when Jimin’s eyes dart towards the open window and Jungkook shifts to stand protectively in front of his Guide. 

“T-Taehyung,” Jimin starts, but his shaking voice fades quickly into silence. 

Taehyung looks away, pinching the bridge of his nose in an attempt to ease his headache. 

“You should probably go now,” he says, gesturing towards the window. “I won’t rat you out, don’t worry.” He doesn’t need to be a Sentinel to hear the way they edge nervously towards their escape route. 

“Taetae,” Jungkook tries, voice tight with frustration and grief. 

“Leave,” Taehyung breathes. “Please.” He squeezes his eyes shut. When he opens them again, the window is closed and Jimin and Jungkook are gone. Blinking away unshed tears, he heads to his office to grab his computer. 

He has work to do.

  
  


* * *

  
  


Namjoon doesn’t consider himself the most observant member of his tribe, but when the two youngest members enter the room, he immediately senses something is wrong. He’s apparently not the only one, as the other three members of his tribe stop conversing and turn to look at the pair. Jungkook’s face is dark and stormy, closed-off in the way he only gets like when something has seriously upset him. Jimin, who has his hand on the Sentinel’s arm, appears calmer, but Namjoon’s sense of smell dials up and he catches the salty-bitter scent of tears drifting from his damp lashes. 

“What happened?” he asks carefully, once both of them have joined them in their circle on the floor. They both remain obstinately silent, glaring holes into the concrete floor. Namjoon glances helplessly at Hoseok, silently pleading his bondmate to do something. 

“Guys, please talk to us,” the Guide tries, pushing a bit of power into his voice. “We want to help, but we can’t do anything unless you tell us what’s going on.” The youngest doesn’t move an inch, but Jimin finally looks up, even if he does avoid their eyes. 

“Taehyung works for the Center,” he says hollowly. “He’s _been_ working for the Center. He’s one of the heads of their tech department.” 

Yoongi looks up, alarmed. 

“What the fuck, guys?” he says, voice rising in agitation. “You gave him information about our plan and now you’re telling us he’s with the enemy? You said he could be trusted!” Jin places a hand on his knee. 

“And we can!” Jimin protests, eyes filled with fire. “He won’t tell anybody. He promised.” 

“And you believed him?” Yoongi asks with a sharp laugh. “He’s one of _them_. You think a lying scumbag like that is gonna keep his promise?” 

“Yoongi,” Jin warns. 

“Taetae always keeps his promises,” Jungkook snarls, and Yoongi growls back instinctively. 

“That’s _enough_ ,” Jin says, pushing with his Guide voice. He doesn’t even raise his voice, but the heated confrontation in the air settles. “Yoongi, go to our room and take a breather. You can come back once you’ve calmed down.” The Sentinel shoots him a scathing glare, but stomps out of the room anyway. 

“Jimin, Jungkook,” he continues, looking at the pair. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but it sounds to me like both of you still believe in this Taehyung of yours.” They both nod reluctantly. 

“But Yoongi’s right,” Jungkook says sullenly. “No matter how much we trust him, it won’t change the fact that he’s with the Center.” 

“Oh, Kookie,” Jin sighs, a sad smile pulling at his lips. “The two of you act so mature all the time that sometimes I forget how young you are. It’s possible to love a person but hate their actions. Even the best people make mistakes. What’s important is whether they’re mistakes you can forgive.” 

“Jin’s right,” Hoseok agrees. “If you still care about him, that means something.” 

For the first time since they entered the room, Jimin and Jungkook look at each other, words passing silently between them. 

“What do we do, then?” Jimin asks tentatively, looking at the two older Guides. Hoseok pats him on the knee. 

“That’s something you’ll have to figure out on your own,” Jin says with an apologetic smile. The two still look uncertain, but the dark clouds of abject misery no longer hang over their heads. 

“Okay,” Namjoon says, drawing everyone’s attention. “Now that we’ve cleared that up, let’s discuss the plan for tomorrow.”

  
  


* * *

  
  


_‘No, stop!’ Jimin screams, kicking ineffectually at the scientists dragging him away. ‘Put me down! Let him go!’ He reaches desperately towards the medical table where Jungkook is strapped down, grasping at the horrible emptiness in his head where their bond should be. Jungkook thrashes furiously against the straps securing him to the table, roaring wordlessly around the strip of leather in his mouth, but his young body doesn’t have the raw strength to break free. He almost blacks out in sheer, uncontrollable rage as he watches the men put their hands on his Guide and carry him out of his sight, just like they’d taken his voice out of Jungkook’s mind. One of the straps starts to give, the buckle starting to rend from the force of the Sentinel’s fury, but before he can take advantage of it, something pricks his arm. As his body grows heavy and his thoughts start to fade, all he can feel is Jimin crying, alone in the dark._

  
  


* * *

  
  


They both wake up with a start, arms automatically reaching for each other. Jungkook feels Jimin’s warm, wet tears against his bare shoulder and buries his hand in his partner’s hair, nuzzling into the crook of his neck. Taking deep, shuddering breaths, he opens up his sense of smell and inhales the familiar, spring rain scent of his bonded. They cling to each other, reaching for each other across their bond with an all too familiar desperation to confirm that they’re both alive and safe and together. Neither of them fall back asleep, but they hold each other close until the morning sun brushes the horizon.


	4. and i still want you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> decisions are made, and everything comes to a head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter warnings: descriptions of violence and blood.

“Okay, everyone ready?” Namjoon gives his five tribe members a quick once over. “Let’s go over the plan one more time.” The others turn to face him, eyes alert.

“As soon as the systems are vulnerable, Jimin and Jungkook are going to infiltrate the Center’s inner facility,” he says. “Since you’re familiar with the building’s layout, it’s gonna be up to you two to find the data archives and destroy them.” They both nod seriously, gloved hands held tight between them.

“Hobi, you and I will keep watch on the front entrance and alert them if they need to get out. We’ll be watching for government agents and military reinforcements. If that happens, we’ll buy as much time as we can before meeting at the exit point.” The Guide wordlessly conveys his agreement.

“Yoongi, Jin, you two are responsible for keeping lookout on the escape point in the back and notifying us when it’s safe to head to the rendezvous point. Once we’ve reached the rendezvous point, we’ll exit at the designated location and head back home.” Namjoon allows himself a brief smile.

“Be safe, everyone,” he says. “Remember, your lives are more important than any mission goal. Pull out if things start going south, got it?” Once they all acknowledge his words, he takes a moment to turn up his hearing and listen to the familiar, soothing rhythm of his tribe’s heartbeats. A solemn silence hangs heavy in the air as Namjoon opens the door and gestures for them to follow.

  
  


* * *

  
  


Jimin and Jungkook pad silently through the sterile white hallways, the younger extending his hearing as far as possible to detect any threats. The small, callused hand on his arm keeps him from going too deep, so he dials up his senses and carefully lets his range expand under the watch of his Guide.

“There’s two guards down the hallway and four people in the atrium past that,” he mutters distractedly. “All the other routes are more heavily guarded. Looks like we’ll have to fight our way through.” Returning to awareness in his body, he looks at his partner.

“I can take one guard, if you take the other,” Jimin suggests.

“Okay,” Jungkook agrees. “When we get to the atrium, I’ll fight them off if you back me up.” Jimin bumps shoulders with him affectionately, and across the bond he feels a warmth that would best be described as a smile.

“Wait.” About halfway to their targets, Jungkook suddenly stops. “Something’s wrong. The two guards are approaching us, and the four in the atrium are also on the move.”

They know we’re here?” Jimin asks, voice tight. “That shouldn’t be possible.”

“The main group just cut off our way back,” the Sentinel replies grimly. “They’re trying to trap us.”

Jimin curses under his breath, thinking quickly.

“Alright,” he says. “We’re going to try to get the group of two first. Once we take them out, we can either continue forward or focus on fighting the larger group.”

The two continue quickly towards the bend in the corridor, preparing to for confrontation. When they round the corner, they spot two men rushing towards them, batons drawn, and they mentally coordinate their plan of attack.

“You are trespassing on government property,” one of the guards calls loudly. “Drop your weapons and put your hands in the air!” Instead, Jungkook puts on a burst of speed and Jimin ducks behind him so he’s mostly hidden from sight. When the younger blocks a swinging baton and tries to get his knee into his opponent’s abdomen, Jimin drops to the ground and sweeps his leg in an attempt to trip the other man. To his dismay, the guard stumbles but catches himself against the wall, and Jimin has to roll to avoid a vicious stomp to the head. As he jumps nimbly to his feet, he sees Jungkook out of the corner of his eye, grappling the first guard with an unusual amount of difficulty. The reason is made apparent the moment he blocks one of his opponent’s punches.

They’re Sentinels, he realizes, the lingering shock in his forearm familiar to him from years of sparring with Jungkook. He knows the difference between a normal blow and a Sentinel strength blow, and although he’s afraid to admit it, this falls solidly in the latter category. A Sentinel’s enhanced strength was enough to beat most people in a head to head, but unfortunately for this guard, Jimin was not most people. With a grim smile, he switches to the combat style perfected by years of kicking his partner’s ass.

Reaching into his pocket, he pulls out the first thing he finds and tosses it down the hallway. When it clatters to the ground, there’s a split second when all three Sentinels hesitate, their enhanced hearing registering the unexpected noise. Jimin takes advantage of the distraction and slips past his opponent’s defenses, flicking open the switchblade in his sleeve and burying it without hesitation into the man’s stomach.

He crumples soundlessly, blood flowing from the wound as the blade retreats. Although not a fatal wound, it would put him out of commission until a medic could come help him. Jimin turns to Jungkook to help him finish his opponent and heart seizes up with fear when he sees his partner trying desperately to fend off five opponents. The four newcomers, who apparently arrived while he was distracted, also appear be Sentinels, based on the way Jungkook is rapidly losing ground.

Shoving down his panic, Jimin reaches into his bag and pulls out the failsafe he’d stowed away in case of a situation like this. Shooting a quick warning across his bond, he pulls the pin from the flash grenade and throws it into the fray, squeezing his eyes shut as he turns away. Even through his eyelids, the sudden bright light touches his retinas. Once it fades, he quickly turns back to survey the situation.

Six Sentinels lay collapsed on the ground, thrown into zones by the sudden burst of intense visual stimuli.

“Shit,” Jimin swears, sliding to his knees next to Jungkook. His warning hadn’t been fast enough, or maybe his partner had been too distracted to hear it. Either way, his first priority is to get his Sentinel out of his zone. He pulls Jungkook’s lax, catatonic body into a sitting position and places a steadying hand on the back of his neck. Pushing his way into Jungkook’s mind, he reels at the overwhelming and painful brightness that resonates where the other’s thoughts normally reside.

_“C’mon, Jungkookie,”_ he says. _“Come back to me. I need you here, your Guide needs you.”_ Cool relief fills him when the brightness slowly starts to fade and a familiar consciousness nudges at his own. _“There we go. That’s it. Come on, I’m right here.”_ Jungkook gasps as he surfaces from the zone, blinking rapidly in an attempt to adjust his vision.

“Alright baby, I need you to dial your vision back for me,” Jimin says, running a soothing hand along Jungkook’s broad back as the Sentinel’s eyes begin to water reflexively. “I’m right here sweetheart. Not going anywhere. I’ll always be here when you need me, like we promised.”

After taking a moment to center himself, Jungkook wipes his eyes and gently pulls away from the arms encircling him. He stands up and extends a hand to help Jimin to his feet.

“Thanks Jimin,” he says hoarsely. “We should get going before any of them come to.” Jimin nods, and they continue down the hallway towards their destination.

  
  


* * *

  
  


“Joonie, are they okay?” Hoseok whispers frantically, his hand tightening around his Sentinel’s wrist.

“They’re okay,” Namjoon says, slowly retracting his senses from inside the building. “They’re moving towards the archive rooms again. They both sound uninjured, and Jimin pulled Jungkook out of his zone.”

“Wait, his _zone_?” Hoseok asks, eyes wide. “What the hell happened in there?”

Namjoon opens his mouth to reply, before his hearing and vision dial up and he focuses on the entrance of the building.

“I’ll tell you later,” he says distractedly. “Right, we have a problem. Looks like they’ve called in backup.”

  
  


* * *

  
  


They’re in front of the archive room, Jimin unscrewing the panel of the deactivated security pad, when Jungkook’s eyes widen suddenly.

“What’s wrong?” Jimin whispers, looking at him in concern. Wordlessly, Jungkook relays to him the sound of the bird call that the group had agreed on as a retreat signal.

“Shit,” Jimin mutters. “We’re so close, though.”

“Let’s just do it, okay?” Jungkook says, eyes bright. “We’ll be done in a few minutes.” They look at each other in silent agreement before slinking quietly into the unmarked room.

The walls blink with rows and rows of flickering lights, the whole room glittering in harmony like a school a little shining fish. Even knowing its sinister goal, the luminous symphony can only be described as beautiful. The soundproofing of the room sets Jungkook on edge; being unable to keep a close eye on the hallways outside means they’re working in the dark. Coordinating effortlessly, the two of them work quickly, rigging the timed explosives in the locations they determine to be the most vital. Once they finish and slip out the door, Jungkook takes a moment to check the hallways for any signs of movement.

“There’s a large group headed towards us,” he determines, “but we’re close to the exit. We should be able to make it there, no problem.” Jimin nods and they start running in down the hallway towards the back door of the building, not wasting any time on masking their footsteps. As they pound down the empty corridors, the tension begins to lift from their shoulders, and when they see the exit at the end of the hall, a stark sense of relief fills them both. Stumbling to a stop, Jimin quickly starts dismantling the security panel by the door while Jungkook prepares to push the door open.

“They’re almost here,” he says absently, staring at his Guide’s nimble hands at work.

“Almost done,” Jimin grunts, pulling away the front panel so he can access the manual release switch. As he presses the small red button, Jungkook pushes against the door.

It doesn’t budge.

“Dammit,” Jimin mutters, fumbling at the panel. “Try it again.” Jungkook puts the full force of his body behind the push, but it still remains solid and unmoving.

“Fuck!” Jimin swears loudly, staring at the insides of the security box. “They fucking reactivated the system! They must’ve done a localized reboot or something, ‘cause there should still be at least twenty minutes before the systems are supposed to be back online.” He looks at Jungkook. “Are Jin and Yoongi on the other side of the door?”

The Sentinel shrugs helplessly.

“The walls are completely soundproof,” he says, eyes wide with fear. “They should be there, but I can’t tell for sure and they can’t hear us either.” Jungkook licks his lips nervously. “What do we do, Jimin?” They both turn around at the sound of voices echoing down the hallway.

“We need to hold them off as long as we can and hope that the others can get us out,” Jimin says, but his voice is anything but optimistic.

“Hey Minnie?” Jungkook’s voice is small and scared, and the Guide looks over instinctively. “If we don’t make it out, I just want to tell you that I love you a lot.”

Something inside Jimin breaks. All he wants to do is wrap this doe-eyed boy in his arms and keep him somewhere safe, away from the danger and violence that has become so deeply rooted in their lives. He’s so young and innocent and everything that Jimin isn’t, and it takes everything in him to hold back the tears burning his eyes. Instead he takes Jungkook’s hand, clutching it like a lifeline.

_I love you too,_ he says, and their hearts warm despite the fear sitting cold in their stomachs. Together, they turn to face the mass of people swarming down the hallway towards them.

Suddenly, Jungkook drops to the ground, limp hand slipping out of Jimin’s grip. Time slows down, and it takes a long moment for Jimin to register the piercing sound of an airhorn set off by someone in the approaching crowd. Panic doesn’t have time to set in; he barely has enough time to push Jungkook’s zone-limp body behind him before the enemies are upon them.

Extensive combat training and the narrow quarters of the hallway are the only things keeping Jimin from rapidly losing ground. Adrenaline pumps through his body as he trades desperate blows with three separate opponents, but his back is literally against a wall, and protecting Jungkook limits his options. At least there aren’t any Sentinels in the group, most likely due to what he’d pulled on the previous guards. His mind races, trying to find away out the situation.

_Click._

Jimin’s eyes go wide. The sound was quiet, too quiet for anyone but a Sentinel to hear, but he’s pressed against the door and he _felt_ it against his back. Throwing all caution to the wind, he dodges the next blow and reaches for the door handle, shoving against the door with the weight of his entire body.

He crashes through, barely managing to step over Jungkook’s body as he stumbles at the unexpected give. Before the action even passes through his conscious brain, Jimin grabs his partner and drags him out the door, paying no attention to the enemies who storm out after them. Oddly enough, the door closes on its own after three of the men make it through, but Jimin doesn’t have the energy to put any real thought towards it. He sees a baton swing towards him and, belatedly, he realizes that he doesn’t even have the energy to lift his arms and block it. Closing his eyes, he hunches over Jungkook’s prone form, the only thought left in his mind to protect his Sentinel.

The weapon never makes contact, a furious roar ringing dully in Jimin’s skull. He feels a gentle hand coaxing him to move, and although his first instinct is to lash out, he realizes distantly that the hand belongs to Jin. He glances up just in time to see Yoongi tear viciously through the last of the enemies, eyes wild and fists bloody.

“Jimin, hurry and bring Jungkook out of his zone,” Jin says in his ear. “I need to go take care of Yoongi.”

Jimin tunes out the rest as he draws back to look at the near comatose body of his Sentinel. With practiced ease, he takes a deep breath and pulls Jungkook out of the depths of his mind, whispering encouraging words through a dry, parched throat. Jungkook surfaces slower than last time, perhaps sensing the lack of imminent danger through the calm in Jimin’s heart.

“Jimin,” he rasps, reaching up to touch the Guide’s face. “We’re alive.” Warm tears drip onto Jungkook’s cheeks as Jimin finally lets himself cry, shoulder shaking silently in relief.

“Yeah,” Jimin sniffs. “We’re alive.”

  
  


* * *

  
  


Namjoon and Hoseok wait nervously in the dingy alley, on high alert despite the abandoned state of the entire neighborhood. It’s difficult to surprise a Sentinel, but Namjoon still keeps a vigilant eye and ear on their surroundings. They both relax slightly when four familiar figures appear at the far end of the alley.

“No time to talk,” Namjoon says shortly once they’ve all gathered. “There’s only ten minutes before the exit closes and we’re all stranded here. Let’s go.” He starts heading towards the winding path to the exit, only to stop when he realizes not everyone is following. When he turns to look, Jimin and Jungkook stand in place, and Namjoon recognizes the stubborn set to both their faces before they even open their mouths.

“We’re waiting for Taehyung,” Jungkook says. Before anybody can say anything, Jimin jumps in.

“He saved us back at the Center,” he insists, ignoring Yoongi’s skeptical look. “We know it was him. The security systems came back online early and we couldn’t get out, but the door suddenly unlocked. It couldn’t have been anybody else.”

“You two are impossible,” Yoongi growls. “Why can’t you let this stupid thing go? It was probably just a fluke! Why would someone like that save a bunch of anti-Center rebels?” He glares at the pair, who match his stare fearlessly.

“He’s gonna come, I know it,” Jungkook says determinedly. “You guys go ahead. If he doesn’t come in five minutes, we’ll follow you.”

Namjoon looks like he’s about to say something using his Leader Voice, but Hoseok puts a hand on his arm and he closes his mouth.

“Okay,” Hoseok says, giving the two youngest members an unreadable look. “We’ll go ahead and secure the exit point. Be safe, you two.”

Jin gives them a smile, then beckons for Yoongi to follow. The Sentinel doesn’t budge, arms crossed over his chest as he stares down his Guide.

“I’m not leaving these idiots here on their own,” he says, frowning. “Someone needs to make sure they don’t get lost finding the exit.” The look Jin gives him is somewhere between exasperated and fond.

“Alright,” the Guide says softly. “Take care of them and come back safe, okay?”

The steel in Yoongi’s eyes soften for a split second as he nods, and anybody who looked closely would see distant sorrow flicker across his face as he watches his partner’s retreating back.

“What the fuck,” he hisses, turning to the pair, “do you think you’re doing? Did you even tell the guy where to meet?” The silence he get in return is answer enough. “How do you know he’s even gonna come?”

“Taetae is smart,” Jungkook says quietly. “He’ll find us.” Yoongi settles with an unhappy grunt, leaning against the wall to wait.

  
  


* * *

  
  


“Get ready to run,” Yoongi warns, body tense with anticipation.

“It’s Tae,” Jungkook whispers giddily. “I can smell him.” He remembers that rich-bitter coffee-chocolate scent vividly. The figure rounds the corner, but Yoongi stays on guard.

“Tae,” Jimin breathes, and Taehyung’s eyes light up as they land on the pair. There are dark circles under his eyes and he’s panting like he’s just finished a marathon, but a smile brightens his face as he runs to Jungkook and Jimin.

“I didn’t think you’d still be here,” Taehyung says, glancing over at Yoongi. “Hi, you must be one of their friends. I’m Taehyung.”

“I know who you are, _traitor_ ,” the Sentinel growls, and Taehyung recoils at the venom in his voice. “Why did you come? Where are the rest of you? Unless you’re so arrogant to presume that you can take us down by yourself.” He bares his teeth. “In which case I’d be happy to correct you.”

“I-I’m sorry,” Taehyung stutters. “I don’t—” He yelps as Jungkook grabs his wrist and starts dragging him away.

“There’s no time for this, Yoongi,” Jimin says seriously. “We need to go, _now_.” He’s right on Jungkook’s heels and Yoongi follows reluctantly, keeping a wary eye on the newcomer.

  
  


* * *

  
  


“Explain to me why I shouldn’t tear his throat out with my teeth and save us all the trouble.”

Safely outside the city walls, Yoongi whips around and pins the Jimin and Jungkook with a furious look. The two men shift to stand protectively between Yoongi and a wide-eyed Taehyung.

“He saved us, at the Center,” Jungkook repeats. “Right Taehyung?” It takes Taehyung a moment to process the question.

“You... mean with the door?” he asks tentatively. The Sentinel nods furiously. 

“How did you even do that?” Hoseok asks, his expression curious but not unkind.

Taehyung looks at him in surprise. He glances back at Jimin, who gives him an encouraging nod.

“Well, when I—” He hesitates. “—when I built the program, I coded a hidden kill switch in it, like I do all the programs I code. So once I got access to the security cameras, I just hit the kill switch and then manually sent data to the door to close it.” He looks down.

“I-I also knocked out everything else I programmed for the Center,” he says. “And I got into the government mainframe and destroyed the backup files of the data archives, since I figured that was what you’d be after. And I left them a little present that’ll set their current projects back at least a few years.”

“So what?” Yoongi barks, eyes narrowed. “You think telling us all that will make us forget about everything you’ve done? That it’ll make up for the fact that you created all of that in the first place?”

Taehyung shakes his head, dark hair flopping haphazardly against his forehead.

“I don’t think that at all,” he says, eyes earnest. “I know I’ve done a ton of really shitty stuff and I want to do anything it takes to make things right again. I’m probably not all that useful to you guys out there—” He waves at the dense forest opposite the city wall. “—but I’ll do whatever I can to help.” He looks straight at Yoongi with serious eyes, and the Sentinel has to resist the urge to avert his gaze as the inky orbs bore into him. “If I’m more useful to you dead than I am alive, then I’ll gladly let you kill me.” The silence that follows sits heavy over their heads.

“Okay, let’s continue this discussion later,” Namjoon finally says. “For now, let’s head back to the base and get some rest.” Jungkook lets out a yawn despite himself and the tension in the air loosens ever so slightly as they begin the trek into the woods.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading this super self-indulgent fic! I know this AU isn't that popular, so I really appreciate those who stuck with it. For those who liked this fic, the next installment of the series is currently in the works. Also, keep an eye out for a side one-shot I'll be dropping soon!


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